


Day 5: Masturbation

by AngelaLives



Series: 8 NSFW Drabbles [5]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dildos, Fantasizing, Gay, Guh Guh Guh Gay, Gusto - Freeform, I know, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Toys, background Ransom/Holster - Freeform, did it work??, eric is fantasizing about jack, haha suckers it's me, health and safety, it's not that pervasive budy i promise, somehwhat resolved, the tag is for plural dildos but theres only one that he uses, trying to be quiet, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:52:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9159535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaLives/pseuds/AngelaLives
Summary: Bitty can't get Jack out of his head.





	

Bitty wraps a hand around his cock, moving slowly, leisurely. He feels guilty about this, but he’s been half-hard since _surprise practice_ at 5 AM this morning, baked three pies when he got back to the Haus, and honestly, he deserves this. He quietly opens the bottle of lube, water-based, that he keeps in his desk, causing his cock to twitch in Pavlovian response. He squeezes a generous amount of it onto his fingers, a voice in the back of his mind that sounds a lot like Shitty says that he needs to pick up more, and starts tracing his rim.

He teases himself like this for a few minutes before giving in, one hand curled into the towel he placed on his bed in preparation— no reason to do extra laundry if he doesn’t have to— and slips a finger in, just to the first knuckle. He bites his lower lip to contain a moan, and works the finger in deeper, shoving his face into the pillow as best he can laying stomach-up on his bed.

As he inserts a second finger, he imagines someone else is working him open like this. Someone taller, broader, maybe gruff as a captain but nicer when they’re alone…

Bitty has to bite into his cheek to stop the next string of moans, and the next two escape anyway, without his permission. He bring up his left hand and bites into it just hard enough to stop the flow of sounds before adding a third finger.

It’s a little rougher as he didn’t add more lube, but Bitty instead thinks of callused fingers, bigger than his, spreading him, and curling _just right_ —

Bitty has to stifle a gasp, groaning in what he thinks, _hopes_ is a soft tone before imagining a voice telling him that he should keep going, like that, add another finger, before he remembers the birthday gift he bought himself not too long ago. He almost doesn’t bother, he’s nearly got four fingers in his hole, but his wrist is starting to cramp from the unnatural angle.  
He muffles any noise he may have made as he pulls his hand away, wiping it on the towel beneath him before reaching over and opening his sock drawer, and pulling out the long dildo he has kept there since he bought it, too afraid to buy a vibrator because of the noise, and not adventurous enough to go any deeper into the website (at least not then, Bitty has to admit to himself that he may have looked at the gags very closely, and liked he sound of a few of them. Or— er, the silence, as it may be with gags).

The blond squeezes more lube out of the bottle and onto his hand, warming it with his fingers before applying it to the silicone phallus. He applied it was if it were a real dick, one belonging to perhaps a muscled hockey player, one that maybe wouldn’t mind taking some instruction. He sits up and, holding the dildo under him, sinks down onto it. He has to bite down harder on his hand this time to stop himself from moaning, and he thinks back to the gags on the website.  
If Jack wore one, would his moans still be audible? If Bitty really tried, if he got Jack worked up and loud, would Bitty be able to hear groans from his throat? Or would he have to make noise for both of them, god knows he’s loud.

Bitty’s all-out riding the dildo like he’s in a competition, and he finally gives into the image of himself, mounted on Jack,riding him like this. Would Jack touch him, run his hands over his thighs just so, toned from skating over the years? Would he prefer to play with Bitty’s nipples _just so?_

The blond has to work to stifle the moans that come after that, one hand now on his cock while the other is shoved over his mouth desperately. What if Jack were to see him like this? Working himself up, flushed down to his chest? He would probably touch himself, the way Bitty is. He would ask if he could touch, and the touches would start out gentle, teasing, until Jack himself felt just like Bitty does right now. Would he insist they shower together afterwards, Bitty washing his back, watching the soap trickle down his defined muscles until it reached his butt, that _beautiful hockey butt._

 _“J-Jaack,”_ Bitty whimpers out, coming into his hand. He rests for a few moments, trying to catch his breath until he shifts uncomfortably around the dildo, oversensitive. He pulls it out and wraps it in the towel, wiping it off the same way he wipes his hand off, carefully but tiredly.

He knows he should clean it, so he pulls on a pair of shorts and a sleeping shirt before making the run to the bathroom, where he cleans the toy undiscovered. He doubts any of the boys would give him shit for it, really, but the shame of doing anything that a church would not approve of is still ingrained in him from his Georgia years. The guilt of masturbating while thinking of Jack sets in. A straight boy again, Eric Bittle? Haven’t you had enough heartbreak, let alone getting off to the fantasy of someone who, if he knew, would be so uncomfortable with it he might want Bittle out of the locker rooms and off the team?

No, that wouldn’t happen. Not in Samwell. Players had crushes on each other all the time, and he was pretty sure Shitty would kill anyone that tried to take him off the team for being gay, or having a gay crush. Plus, he’s pretty sure Ransom and Holtz don’t run into tables _that_ frequently in the attic, not with that amount of gusto.

Bitty isn’t Eric Bittle any more, “son of Suzanne and Coach, the short one, blond, you know him?” Bitty is Bitty, pie-baker for the team, and they’re welcome to have him.

Bitty gets back to his room with the dildo and himself in one piece, and puts it away before crawling into bed for the night. He belongs here, and one little crush isn’t going to change that.

At least, he certainly hopes not.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my beta, the beautiful pot of gold i have locked under my closet floorboards  
>  **thank you for reading! comments, feedback, and suggestions are welcome!**


End file.
